


Bear With Me

by KirkyPet



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies), Mad Max: Fury Road
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Shapeshifting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-06-20 00:25:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 6,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15522018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KirkyPet/pseuds/KirkyPet
Summary: Wasteland shapeshifter AUInspired by this gif!https://kirkypet.tumblr.com/post/167742392198(previously posted on tumblr, see kirkypet #shapeshifter au)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Splinter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Splinter/gifts), [SilverDagger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverDagger/gifts).



Max shuffled his feet in the dust awkwardly. No one could say he was a man overburdened with social grace, but he was uncomfortably aware he couldn’t turn on his heel and leave immediately.

“So - uh - everyone alright then?” he waved a hand vaguely in the direction of the Citadel.

“Oh, yeah, we’re hanging in there.” Toast tipped her chin proudly. “Got those white painted arseholes toeing the line, more or less. The oldest one’s joined forces with the Mothers, makes it all run smooth enough.”

And then, seeing his gaze wander towards the horizon, she added “But I won’t keep you. You’ve got places to be, I’ll bet.”

Max blinked and hummed noncommittally.

“So, like I said, you just missed her. She said she just needed to stretch her legs for a bit. Jumped on a bike a few days ago and took off.”

*

Max hurried back to his car which, to his relief, was still intact and where he’d left it. It’d been an effort to keep down the panic; the belief that, despite the change in management, he’d be grabbed again. That was not something to be forgotten.

But the War Boys didn’t seem interested in capturing him. In fact, the group gathered way too close to his car actually scattered like chickens on his approach. Some changes.

“Max, wait up!” He paused as Toast came jogging over. “Did you see anything strange out there?”

He regarded her warily.

“An animal? A big one?” she went on.

Max froze. “What kind of animal?”

“Couple of the patrol Boys saw something last night. Scared the shit out of them. Dunno if they’d been on the brew or what, but I don’t think they’re making it up. It was dark so they just saw eyes. And patches of white. But it sounded _big_.”

“White?” Max frowned and shook his head. “No.”

“Keep an eye out? Might be dangerous. Boys want to get up a hunting party.”

“Right.” Max hesitated, and added “Prob’ly not dangerous though. Won’t hurt anybody if nobody hurts it.”

Toast regarded him thoughtfully. “Funny, that’s exactly what the Mothers said.”


	2. Chapter 2

Max felt his head clear a little as the three towers diminished in his rear view.

Now he could think more clearly, he was full of questions that there was nobody around to answer.

He wasn’t sure how much time had gone by since they’d tossed Joe to the mob. He pulled at his hair, the only real measure of time he had left. _Hmm, just a few finger widths. Less than a moon, then._

Max knew what a battering Furiosa had taken, how close she’d been to slipping away - _I wonder what she saw - ?_ He shook his head, _focus_.

He’d done emergency repairs - _treatment_ , but that was no kind of guarantee she’d last. Max felt a hot flush of shame. _Should’ve stayed._

The thought had tormented him days and nights, before he managed to push it away for a while. He had good blood, it might’ve helped - _what if she’d dropped on the lift, no-one there to help the way he could - ?_

He’d half-convinced himself she was dead by now, tried to draw a line under it that way. All it meant was, that very day he’d been back there again, making his enquiries.

But they were unconcerned. She’d made a quick recovery, been on her feet for ages now. Seemed Max’s ‘high-octane blood’ had got much of the credit. That blood that he’d cursed in his cage, the blood that’d got him free in the end, in a roundabout way. Maybe it _was_ lucky after all.

He was a pretty fast healer himself. Or at least in recent years. Didn’t extend as far as the damn knee, but that’d happened long before.

But he was more use out here, he’d told himself. He could watch the horizon, see who would approach. Take care of it. Seems to be working so far.

Toast had told him how the screaming horde of Joe’s Boys they’d been expecting had just turned out to be a tired gaggle of allies - or at least neutrals - led by ‘the old one’.

No, if he’d stayed, he could’ve only have helped _her._

And she was fine, of course she was. Good to know.

_Job done. Move on._


	3. Chapter 3

Of course this time, _moving on_ meant sitting for hours, chin in hand, frowning at his collection of maps.

He weighed the pros and cons of the least hellish destinations. None of them stood up to scrutiny. It was generally enough just to be moving.

Staying still made him itchy. But it’d had a strange charm, orbiting this crazy hellhole. Fixing things as needed fixing. It wasn’t about being _reliable_ \- he’d have laughed at that, if he remembered how - but having some kind of task made him feel more solid.

Besides, they kept _giving_ him things. Water and supplies once, buried under rocks, a green handprint smudged on. And they’d loaded up the car without a word, he hadn’t even realised. He didn’t need them, didn’t need any of this, but - his maps certainly weren’t suggesting anything better.

Wait. Max remembered something, a corner of his mouth twitched a little. _Keep an eye out_ , she’d said. He’d forgotten about that.

He could do that. He could do more a lot than that, if it came to it. And it undoubtedly would come to that since, in Max’s experience, no self-respecting animal would allow itself to be seen. Not twice, anyway.

It was probably long gone anyway. He knew most of the hiding places nearby, caves and suchlike, and he’d never come across anything bigger than a dog.

Toast had said there was an Old Boys Tale of a vengeful Beast. It had tracked a raiding party once, years ago, and killed almost the whole crew before they’d managed to shoot it.

Max didn’t know whether he would barrack for the War Boys or the Beast in that tale. From what he knew, Toast probably didn’t either.

But that’d been a long time ago, before Ace’s time almost.

Whatever it was, it’ll just have been passing through. It was probably just a War Boy’s fever dream anyway.

But he’d stay and search anyway. ‘Til a better plan presented itself. Might see Furiosa. Be a shame to shoot through without a nod. Just a nod from a distance, that would do.


	4. Chapter 4

He spent the first week checking out the nearby hiding places, just to be sure. There weren’t all that many, in that flat Wasteland, just a cluster of rocky boulders to the north that looked that they’d been left behind when the geography had moved out. The Citadel was enough geography for anyone.

And the canyon, of course. He knew what was there, or at least what had been there. Wreckage, mechanical and human, such as it was. Max didn’t want to go back there again. That’d been the scene of most of his work during the last moon. He was sick of the sight of the place.

Besides, it was riddled with those shaggy-looking hopping bike bastards. No Beast would go near the place, not one that was looking to stay out of trouble anyway.

But Furiosa - mightn’t she have gone there? Maybe to patch things up with the bikers? Maybe they were a forgiving bunch. Max snorted. Yeah. Okay, not likely. Or maybe she’s retracing her steps, looking for her lost people. She wouldn’t find them, not without a shovel.

Okay, the canyon - but he wouldn’t go through. _She_ wouldn’t go through. No need, not on a bike.

Not on the run from a War Party either. It was practically a holiday. She’d probably go round, if she went at all.

He groaned inwardly, unsure exactly when this stopped being about finding the Beast and became entirely about finding Furiosa.


	5. Chapter 5

It was such a decadent thing to just let it flow in a golden stream across the parched earth. Whenever there were so many uses for the stuff -

You could get a decent meal in Bartertown for a few weeks carefully hoarded piss. The tanners just _lapped_ it up.

Not literally. No, it was far too lucrative to _drink_. And the other raw materials for their trade were never in short supply. There was no shortage of dead flesh.

Max avoided meat when he could, but didn’t ask questions when he couldn’t. Life or death, that was a different thing. But he never ever wore new leather.

Liquid gold. A useful commodity in the Bullet Farm too, though they weren’t as welcoming to outside traders.

A Bullet Farm Boy would never know what it was like to stand idly watching his own piss splashing on his boots, to see it trickle away in sunshiny rills, into any crack or hollow.

So much of it, too. None of his bottles would hold it, he knew. That’s what comes of orbiting a water source held by allies.

Max was so occupied, imagining his kidneys having something to do for a change, that he almost didn’t see it. The pool of liquid, rapidly disappearing. No longer a puddle, more of a print. And not one of _his_ , the shape was all wrong.

He hurriedly rearranged himself and examined the now-muddy indentation. No doubt about it, those were four claw marks in the dust. And there was another one, just there. He followed them as far as he could confidently make them out. After that, he’d have to follow his nose.

He took a deep breath, calming, _focusing_.

Pissing all over the tracks wouldn’t have made the thing any easier, but this scent was strong enough to follow. It smelled of sudden death, pure and simple, Max agreed with himself on that point.

But yet, not so simple. There was something else, something that reminded him - only the two-legged part of him, though - of _engine oil?_

Despite his wiser instincts, Max padded along, nose to the ground, ears pricked for any sounds of approach. That human smell was getting stronger, but he kept on til faced with a rock wall.

No, not a wall, a hidden entrance about four or five hands wide. He sniffed cautiously at the entrance. Empty.

The smell of oil and machinery was so strong now, it was no effort at all to change and step through the crack.

He felt around and found cold metal. The curve of a bike. The rods and bolts of a mechanical arm.


	6. Chapter 6

Furiosa yawned and stretched out, warm and comfortable in the morning sun. Then she did it again, just because she could. And maybe she wasn’t quite tired of showing off, even though nobody was around to see. Because nothing could yawn quite like a tiger.

Padding to the cliff edge, she lay down and surveyed her domain. _This is the best_ , she thought, contentedly. No one for clicks around. Her whole world had been flipped on its head, night was day, and she was free.

The nights were hers now, the Wasteland was hers, her comings and goings were entirely hers. And hunting was fun, all those hidden small prey were hers too, for the scenting. This was one of her favourite spots for that reason, the canyon breezes swirled so, it was like a panorama of scents.

And there it was, right on cue -

Not long after, the thing itself shambled into view. Furiosa leaned forward a little for a better look. Curious - it’s following a scent trail, nose to the ground, never looking up.

The he-thing, she didn’t know what it was, but it damn sure smelt like a he, it looked big, about her size, but broader, maybe heavier. It had to be a predator, there wasn’t enough green for large plant-eaters anymore, she knew.

She bristled at the challenge, the hint that she wasn’t alone at the top of the pyramid.

If she’d been human right then, it probably would’ve been game on. But Furiosa hadn’t been human for some time, and she was wary. Curious, certainly, but she wasn’t about to pick a fight just for fun.

Besides, this shape was still a novelty. She’d been used to inspiring terror in War Boys for more years than she could remember, but she still rumbled with satisfaction at the look on Flack’s face that night. He’d be needing some fresh daks when he got home.

So she amused herself by appraising this potential rival. Heavy-looking. Slow-moving but it’s following a scent trail, so that’s nothing to go by. Those claws look like they mean business. _Cuddly_ , that dumb two-legged part of her brain chipped in helpfully.

Furiosa was still pretty sure she could take him down if it came to it. But it wouldn’t come to that. She’d just follow for a bit, at a distance, staying downwind.

Nonsense phrases argued between themselves in her memory. _Nine lives - Curiosity killed the cat - Mischief for idle hands_ -

Her tail twitched uncertainly. Shit. This was a bad idea, but she knew she was going to do it anyway.

So she followed, at a distance, until it became clear which way they were going. Whose trail it was that he was following. Hers.

_Go, turn, go, quick_. And then it hit her like a Rig at full throttle. Scent of - Blood, _it’s not his blood_ \- but then, rush of memory, of breaking the surface, of finding air at last, warmth where creeping cold had been. _I’m so sorry. Home_. Cheering voices and rushing water.

Half-stunned, needing to know for sure, she turned the corner. Just as he ducked out of the gap in the rock face, right there in front of her.


	7. Chapter 7

It was one of those moments that made Max question his sanity, then very quickly thank his lucky stars that he still had some of it left. Way too many things were happening at once.

A death-beast trail, leading to the prized possessions of a missing friend, voices in his head screaming to be heard over the clamour of his own panic.

_Think, Max, Boy, Fool_ , they all urged. He didn’t have much time to think because, as his eyes readjusted to the glare, there it - _she?_ \- was.

Maybe his own personal experience helped. Perhaps he just wanted to believe it was her. Or it was just that he thought a tiger mauling would be an interesting way to die.

For whatever reason, he didn’t reach for his gun.

Max raised his hands very slowly to just above his head. He figured that, if the tiger wasn’t who he hoped it was, it might count as making himself big. Not that that would do much, cornered as he was. But wait, his eyes darted to the left, there was always the cleft in the rock, if things turned out badly.

Meanwhile, the tiger -

_he couldn’t take his eyes off her if he’d wanted to, that beauty, grace and deadliness_

\- she had unfrozen herself from her surprised stance. Clearly a decision had been made.

To Max’s intense (but cautious) relief, she - _definitely a she_ \- ducked her head and growled quietly, her tail low and twitching cautiously.

“It’s Max”.

The sound of his voice almost surprised himself. Oh well, no loss. It’s only polite to introduce yourself to the predator that may be about to rip you limb from limb.

She made a kind of breathy snort through her nose, and Max let out a lungful of air. He didn’t speak tiger, but that was not a threatening sound.

He dropped his hands to shoulder level as she approached, and laughed a little as the tiger very deliberately nudged his hip with her head.

“Furiosa” he gasped, wide-eyed, and slid his back down the rock wall till he was sitting at eye level with her. And there he was, sitting in a Wasteland canyon, having his face nuzzled by a tiger. Max couldn’t have been happier.

But just as suddenly she backed away, her tail twitching nervously, her ears lying flat against her head. Turning swiftly, she loped away and disappeared round the corner out of sight.

Max scrambled to his feet, alarmed. Presently, he heard a cough, followed by the sound of a human trying to spit from a very dry mouth. A muffled _ugh_.

Max recollected himself and looked around. He remembered that feeling.

Water. He ducked back into the crevice and, fumbling in the dark - no snakes, please - he found what could only be a canister of the Citadel Aqua Cola.

He made to follow her but stopped short, recollecting that she may not be as fortunate as himself on the clothing front. So he looked the other way as he held out the canister at arms length.

A hand seized the can, fumbled, dropped it. Instinctively he looked round and saw a fully clothed, very dusty Furiosa trying in vain to unscrew the top.

She growled at him as he reached out to take it. Finally she uncapped it, raised it to her lips and drank deeply, soaking herself in the process.

Max tried not to smile at the sight as he crouched carefully nearby. She’d been away for quite a while, by the looks of it.

Once she’d got her breath back, Furiosa looked over at him, head quirked on one side. She cleared her throat, paused for a few seconds and frowned.

Her lips moved like she was trying something new. She looked back at him, brow questioning.

_“Bear?”_


	8. Chapter 8

“Mhm. Sometimes.” Max acknowledged. He’d thought the first telling would’ve been harder. He could hardly have imagined this particular situation though.

Furiosa made an undefinable sound in her throat, five seconds later followed by “Good”.

She drained the last of the water, without spilling much this time.

“Tell?” she asked, voice hoarse.

Max shifted uncomfortably. The tables were turned now. He’d have to be the chatty one for a change. It’d be tough, without her voice to draw him out.

But. Words were hard when you’d been something else for a long while. He knew that. He wondered how long she’d been away, but he’d just have to be patient.

“Found an old man. In a cave” Max waved a hand vaguely eastward. “Thought he was dead. Bad wound here.” He touched his head. “No pulse, no breathing. Eyes closed. Dead.”

Max shrugged, looked at her half-apologetically. Furiosa sat, hugging her knees, listening intently. She was looking more comfortable in her own skin already, he noticed.

“Not dead?” she asked, looking like she was torn between apprehension and amusement.

Max shook his head ruefully. “Bit me.”

Her eyebrows shot up.

“He had this - fur coat on. I was trying to get it off him when he came to. Sunk his teeth right in, right deep.”

Max examined his wrist closely. “Can’t see it anymore, though. Healed quick enough.”

Furiosa leaned in to look. “ - do?”

“No time to do anything. He let go straight off, went still. I didn’t even have to touch him. Watched him for a while. He didn’t move again.

So - buried him, took his stuff - ”

“Coat?”

Max nodded. “Traded most of it. Kept the coat though. Old fella seemed attached to it. Could understand that.

So then, a good while later, was feeling a bit better - I’d had a bit of fever - ”

“Fr’m bite?”

“Hmph. Pretty scared for a good while, but when I got better - well, I had a bit of a celebration. Glad not to be dead.”

Max shrugged a shrug that had ‘god knows why’ written all over it. “So got rotten on home brew and woke up not knowing what shape I was. Worst hangover I’ve ever had. Only it wasn’t. A hangover.”

Max was startled by the snort from Furiosa. He’d never heard her laugh before. An involuntary grin spread across his face before he could stop himself.

“Funny thing was, I felt great. I was hallucinating from fever and I didn’t care. A couple of days later, I knew it wasn’t a fever dream, it was real enough. I didn’t know how to come back, and I didn’t even want to.”

Furiosa looked serious enough now. “Don’t know how either” she murmured, with a frown. “How did you?” she asked, out loud.

“I panicked. Changed back straight off. Just like that.” Max spoke with the confidence of someone who’d spotted a definite pattern in his shifting.

“Oh.” She sounded uncertain.

“I didn’t shift for moons after that. I was afraid that I wouldn’t come back again. But once I’d made up my mind it wasn’t going to happen again, it did.

I freaked out, buried the skin - the fur coat. And drove til I ran out of guzz.”

“Didn’t work?”

He shook his head. “It’s not the skin. I went back and dug it up, burned it. Still keep shifting.”

Max sighed and brightened a little. “I mean, it has its plus points. Don’t get hurt so easy these days. Wounds heal. Can bleed out for days, not much harm. Don’t stop it hurting though.”

Max’s eyes widened a fraction and he glanced towards Furiosa. The corner of his mouth twitched into a smile. Those injuries might well have killed her, at least laid her low for months. But no.

Furiosa looked thoughtful, a little stunned, tired. Maybe he’d been talking too much. That had felt like his whole twelvemoon quota in one sitting. He wondered if there was any more of that Citadel water lying by.

Finally she spoke. “Hmph. Didn’t know it was catching.”

She shook her head sluggishly. “Ugh. Can’t think. Up all night.” She curled up on the ground, head on her good arm. “Cat nap” she chuckled.

It was Max’s turn to grunt a laugh at this, as he rummaged in her stash of goods for a blanket. Looking at the sky, he’d seen the sun had just past its zenith. He’d been awake for less than six hours. Furiosa? Who knew? Tigers hunted at night, he’d seen that somewhere.

“Gonna go get the car” he said quietly, as he returned, shaking out a prickly bundle.

Silence. Out for the count, he thought, as he carefully covered her with the rough blanket. Pausing, he shrugged off his jacket and tucked it under her heavy head. She harrumphed quietly in her sleep but didn’t stir.

Recollecting himself, he chugged down some water and hurried off.


	9. Chapter 9

It felt like an eternity before he made it back. He’d retraced his steps back to the car easily enough, but it was a tougher job to navigate the rough terrain without damaging her more than she could handle.

She’d been through a lot and was hanging together by Wasteland welds and willpower. Funny to think, she wouldn’t have survived the War Party ruckus at all but for the refit she’d had while he was hanging like a piece of meat.

Max paused just beyond the threshold and cleared his throat loudly. He didn’t want to get his head shot off by accident. Or staved in, which was more likely.

“Come in, it’s alright” a voice called out. Furiosa’s voice, sounding more like herself.

Stepping round the corner, he saw her sitting cross legged, blowing grit out of the metal arm that lay in her lap. His jacket was draped over her shoulders.

“Heard you coming. Smelt you too.” She smirked down at her work. “Don’t feel bad. Still got a bit of tiger nose. Oh, here - take some food. I’ve had some already.”

She glanced up at him with a smile. The change in her expression in that moment was barely detectable, just a slight widening of the eyes, the smile fading a little, an appraisal maybe?

Then she blinked, looked away with a tiny shake of the head. Max wondered what she was thinking, if he’d passed.

“So. Where were we?” she asked, looking down at again at the brush she’d been using. “Oh yeah - ”

“You didn’t think it was catching.” Max dropped his bag and lowered himself down to sitting.

“I remember now. It’s true. I thought shifting only ran in families.”

“Your family - ?”

“Mum was a shifter.” Furiosa bit her lip then went on. “I knew I would be as well. But it only comes on with - well, we were looking forward to it happening when - when I was taken.”

There was a long silence as this sank in.

“And you never did shift? After that?” Max asked, quietly.

“How’d you guess?” Furiosa smiled sadly.

“Citadel. Doesn’t seem like the right - environment. Before, anyway.”

“It wasn’t. And I’m glad it wasn’t. Imagine being Joe’s pet. Weapon. He would have never let something like that go. Wouldn’t have been any good as a weapon either. He would’ve been furious, that I wouldn’t be his War Beast. It doesn’t work like that.”

She shrugged helplessly. “YOU know. Defend your territory. Protect your own. It wasn’t my territory. And they weren’t my own. Not really.”

Silence. They both had things to think about.

Furiosa looked up abruptly. “You sent Ace back. That was - ” her voice choked off, but she swallowed it down. “That made the difference. To me. To all of us, really.”

Max squirmed slightly, dragged from his own painful thoughts. “Toast - ” he glanced up unconsciously, uncertain he’d got the name right. “ - she said he’d teamed up with the Mothers. That’s - he’s the old one, right?”

Furiosa nodded. “He was my second on the Rig.”

_Traitored_ , Max thought.

“Survived.” He offered, out loud. “Seems loyal. To you.”

“I don’t deserve it.” Her smile was brittle, but didn’t crack. “He doesn’t have to deal with me much. Gets on well with the Mothers. The young ones too. And the Boys follow him.”

Furiosa looked towards the horizon like she was trying to see beyond it. She was a mixture of restless energy and lost apathy as she sat. Max longed to comfort her. His fingers twitched uncertainly.

“Dark hair” he blurted out. “Your friend.”

He reddened a little as Furiosa looked up, surprised at the change of subject.

“Did she shift too?”

“I don’t know. I never asked her. She was younger than me, didn’t know her family. I always imagined she did though.”

Furiosa frowned thoughtfully. “A bird. Definitely a bird.”

Max bit his lip at his blunder, but carried on. “Mothers might know. Could ask them. When - you go back.”

“Yeah - ” She didn’t meet his eye. She shivered a little and drew the jacket tighter around her. The sun had dropped and the canyon was narrow.

Max raised his head, roused by the realisation that of course she’d be cold, in her human skin.

“Um. There’s kindling. They packed up the car for me. Got something else too, said would help keep the cold out.”

“Sounds good. Thanks Max.”


	10. Chapter 10

Max didn’t know what went into the cakes of fuel that they’d given him. The smell they gave off was unplaceable, a mix of the pleasant with the very unpleasant. But they burned well, and the greasy firelighters of matted hair meant it didn’t take long getting a good blaze started.

They settled back as the campfire farted and crackled. The canyon was in deep twilight now, and the light it gave was both comforting and otherworldly.

“It’s the peace.” Furiosa’s voice roused Max from his half-asleep state. “The quiet. Isn’t it?” she looked questioningly at him. “That’s the thing that helps us shift.”

He nodded. “Need to be calm. It’s easier out here, nobody around. Usually, anyway.”

“That why you left?” It wasn’t an accusing tone, but he shifted uncomfortably.

“Partly.” He folded his arms, sank into himself some more. It wasn’t just to keep warm.

“But - look, this was my first time. It was - _intoxicating_. Don’t you want to just stay out there, all the time?”

“I gotta drive, though. Got to be human for that. Besides. Folks call you a feral if you stay away too long.” He raised an eyebrow and gave her a wry look. “You warm enough now?”

“Hmm. What was that you said - something to keep the cold out?”

“Oh yeah. Here.” He rummaged in the sack, producing a bottle wrapped in rags. He handed it to her.

Furiosa read the label. “Yamazaki. 25 year old. I have no idea what that means.”

She pulled at the seal and uncorked the bottle. She took a cautious chug and made a face. “Phew. That’s awful.” Then she took a sip more and handed the bottle to Max.

“Looks old. Really old.” Max squinted at the bottle and sniffed it uncertainly.

“Probably got it out of Joe’s cellars. Lots of old-time stuff down there. Don’t know what half of it’s for.”

“Yeah?” Max took a swig and wrinkled his nose as the fumes hit his sinuses. “Keep the cold out alright.”

They passed the bottle back and forth until Furiosa broke the silence. “You were at the Citadel. Was everything alright? There, I mean.”

She looked almost apologetic.

“I didn’t go in. But - Toast - sounded happy enough. And your - one of the Mothers - the one with the - ” Max waggled a finger of each hand somewhere between his ears and shoulders.

Furiosa tried not to smile. “Two braids?”

“Mph. Seemed okay too.” He frowned, trying to remember something. Oh yes - “Do the Mothers shift?”

The ones who made it, he didn’t add.

“No. Guess I’m the last one. But they know I do. Or at least they know I should be able to. Why do you ask?”

“Toast said the Mothers said the beast wasn’t dangerous. The one that scared a War Boy. You?”

Furiosa chuckled like a naughty child. “Oh, poor Flack. I shouldn’t laugh - how can I make it up to him?”

Her smile faded, she shivered in a way that had to nothing to do with cold.

“But they don’t need me. And it’s not home. It can’t be. It’s all new to the young ones, everything outside the Vault. And the Mothers, it can be the Home they’ve been looking for. But - ” she tailed off.

“You don’t want to go back.”

Furiosa shook her head, her voice was strained. “Seems like my whole life. I know every inch of that place. Wives, War Boys, Imperators. The whole damn Citadel. Seen it all. Know it too well.”

She huffed a breath and put her hand to her eyes. Her shoulders shook.

Max looked on, but his concern was misplaced. She was laughing.

“Shit.” She shook her head and looked up at him.

“What am I even doing out here?”

“Taking a holiday.” Max instantly replied. And, with a pleased smile, he added “Finding yourself.”

Her swing missed its target. It may or may not have been the whiskey. “Still a Fool” she growled happily.


	11. Chapter 11

Furiosa looked up at the thin strip of sky. _Stars_. Pretty sure they shouldn’t be spinning like that, but hey. She felt a hell of a lot better than she had for a long while. Enjoy it while it lasts, for there’ll be suffering tomorrow.

She looked over with narrowed eyes at Max, leaning low against the rock wall. “You got nice ears. Well, you _had_ nice ears.”

Laughing at his confused expression, she managed “Bear ears.”

He shrugged modestly. “Wouldn’t know.”

“Reminds me of - of - can’t remember the name. Bear thing. Toy. All fuzzy. Had your ears. Nose too” she nodded, as if imparting profound information.

“What d’ya call it?” Max mumbled.

Furiosa blew air out of loose lips, making a noise that has no name.

“Dint really have a name. Mostly called him ‘Rrrrrrrrrr’. That’s the noise bears make? So Mum said. But I’d call’im Squeezy. Sometimes. Because he was.”

She sighed deeply and stared into the middle distance, as if reviewing the whole of her childhood.

Max rolled his eyes in resignation. Alright then. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes - 

The air changed, and there was a large bear sitting next to her. _Right there_.

“Squeezy!” she laughed. Flung her arm and stump round its neck and kissed its bear ears.

And froze, still laughing. Because there was Max, trapped in an embrace, looking bewildered. She took pity on him and let go.

“Sorry, um - changed back there. Didn’t mean to.”

“Thank you.” She patted the back of his head. “That was very - kind.”

“Don’t mention it” he rumbled, embarrassed.

“Goin’ back tomorrow.” 

“Alright.” 

“You coming too?”

“Alright.”

“Good” she let out a long sigh and nodded to herself. “Good. Gonna be alright.”

“Mph. Fire getting low. Blankets.”

“Here.”

They got comfortable by the light of the glowing ash.

Some time later - 

“Max?”

“Mm-hm?”

“Can’t sleep?”

“Mm-hm.” 

Silence.

“Would it be weird if I - shifted? Might help.”

“Go for it.”

That did make things easier, thought Max. Instead of of a human woman a few inches away, there was now a - tiger, dropping off to sleep. Quite close. Very close actually. Warm. Well, that makes sense. _Sigh_. Nice.

An onlooker, though such a thing was highly unlikely, would’ve seen a bear and a tiger curled up together comfortably snoring.


	12. Chapter 12

The narrow strip of sky overhead began to lighten.

In her half-sleep, Furiosa let her mind drift back to her earliest memories. As a birthday treat, she’d begged for her Mum to be a tiger for a whole day.

They’d played and the little girl had marvelled over her mother’s huge paws. She wanted to fit her head in her mother’s mouth like in the picture book she had, but that wasn’t allowed.

They’d gone to sleep that night and, the next day, she’d sat on her Mum’s knee and they’d talked about the fun they would have when Furiosa was old enough to be a tiger too.

These memories surfaced like bubbles in a pot as Furiosa dozed. She clung to Max’s sleeping bulk, buried her face in his fur and was comforted.

When she awoke fully, she was spooning Max - man-Max - who was twitching in his sleep.

Furiosa raised herself stiffly up on her stump. He let out a cry and reached out his hand to something or someone unseen.

She stretched her arm across his body and rested her hand lightly on his forearm.

“Max - _ssh_ \- it’s alright. Just a dream.”

His eyes, one moment wide but unseeing, fluttered closed and he relaxed by degrees.

Furiosa’s hand closed over his and he clasped it tightly as he fell into a more restful sleep.

Furiosa remained propped on her elbow, wondering. Who was this man? An ally, a friend even. But she realised she knew nothing about him. Had he always been alone? What had he been running from?

_‘I make my own way’_ he’d said. To where?

Well, she thought with an internal sigh, she knew where _she_ was going. Back home.

It would have to be Home now. They needed her, despite her stubborn belief to the contrary. She knew every facet of the place, every cog and rivet.

Besides, Home was where the people you care about are. And she did care about the girls, the Mothers, even the Boys.

Furiosa looked back down at Max. He would hardly come back with her. He’d walked away twice already, it would be insanity to expect anything different.

Shame, though. Such a waste. She wouldn’t ask.

With a groan, she conceded to internal pressures and carefully climbed to her feet, pausing only to take off the jacket and drape it over his sleeping form.

A quick evacuation and she was back to find him scrubbing at his eyes and looking round sleepily. His eye fell on her prosthetic arm lying by and he looked up at the sound of her return.

“Good sleep?” he asked.

“Can’t complain. You?”

“Good, yeah” he nodded, looking vaguely surprised by the fact.

“Breakfast - then - ?” Furiosa nodded in the direction of the Citadel.

He rummaged in his pack, and produced some dried fruit and hard flatbread. She’d hoped that he would offer some hint as to his plans, but no.

They ate the meal in silence and wordlessly began to pack their respective vehicles.

Max sat leaning on the bonnet of his car, arms folded, as Furiosa wheeled her bike out of the slot canyon.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Ready” she replied.

But ready for what? Damn it. She gritted her teeth.

“Will you come back? With me?” she asked, so determined not to sound nervous that she overcompensated and Max blinked in surprise.

But he nodded jerkily. “Those old relics in the basement levels, they’re something to see - ” she went on “ - just for a while, anyway…and you don’t even have to come in if you don’t want to, we can - ”

“For a while - ” he echoed, nodding quite vigorously now, as if concerned that Furiosa might not notice and keep rambling. She did notice however and frowned her relief.

“Good. The girls’ll be glad. And Ace wants to meet you. Again. Properly.”

She bit her lip and fired the ignition. Waited until Max got his engine to turn over. And off they went, cross-country, back to the Citadel.

Furiosa pulled up on the asphalt in sight of the towers. Max drew up alongside.

“What is it?” he asked, looking round warily.

She perched her goggles on her brow and leaned in the passenger window. “You sure about this? They’ll probably make a fuss.”

“Be alright” he sounded gruffer than he’d intended. After all, he’d been back before and it hadn’t been too bad.

“Well - hey - ” she ducked her head so she could look him in the eye “Thanks.”

She grinned at a sudden thought. “You’ll get the credit anyway.”

At his quizzical expression, Furiosa clarified. “For bringing me back.”

At this she revved and drove on, looking over her shoulder.

“Didn’t do anything” he grumbled, and followed the bike.


	13. Chapter 13

Some time later -

Furiosa slumped to the ground, and lay there exhausted, laughing incredulously with what breath she could find.

“That was amazing. I’d no _idea_ \- ”

She shook her head and turned to look at Max who was flat out and groaning quietly. No wonder – he certainly hadn’t held back. She wiped the sweat from her eyes and looked up to the stars.

“Ready to go again?” she asked, teasingly.

He turned his head to look at her. “You can’t be serious - I can’t keep up.”

“Sure you can. You did.”

She hitched her left knee up and began stretching her hamstring. “I’d no idea bears could run so fast. I’m impressed.”

“You should tell ‘em. They’re getting the wrong idea.”

Furiosa couldn’t argue with that theory. It was their fourth night out together, and there was a definite trend. They’d come back at dawn, dusty and tired, with bruises and scratches.

And lizards. Lots of lizards. That confused them, but didn’t prevent definite conclusions being drawn. It had taken Furiosa a while to figure out what they were actually getting at.

“Ace gave me the talk.” Max lamented.

“He’s just pulling your leg.” Furiosa assured him.

Probably anyway. She wondered how sex could be as much fun as this, anyway. Not that she wasn’t interested in it. In theory.

She just hadn’t thought about it much. She hadn’t had to, thankfully.

“Ah, sun’s coming up.” She observed. “Better get back. You coming with me?”

Furiosa always asked the question. It’d be a long walk back if he said no, but it was still dawn-cool. Someday he’d say no.

Max said nothing, just tossed her the keys to his car.

*

A little later -

They parked the car just as the stars were beginning to come out. Scrambled out and ran for the dunes. Furiosa stopped short, turned and pulled Max in for a kiss.

They still had regular nocturnal escapes but it’d been weeks since they’d shifted.

Funny though; now it was common knowledge that they only drove out to chase each other around the desert like great hairy fools.

It seemed a shame to shatter that illusion.

*

“ - okay, go on then. Tell them the truth. But you _know_ Dag will want to find a mad old crow-woman to bite her. You know she wants to fly, and if she finds out shifting is catching - ”


End file.
